


Drabbles

by anthfan



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthfan/pseuds/anthfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles. Cross posted from other sites. Chapters are not connected unless specified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pool Table

**A/N: Drabble challenge from a picture of Emily Bett Rickards playing pool. Challenge was: What if Felicity was a pool shark and Oliver didn’t know.**

 

 

 

“Let me try.” Felicity said, as she hopped off the stool and made her way to the table. 

 

Oliver lifted an eyebrow, “You sure? Have you played before?” 

 

She stifled a laugh and gave him an even expression, “Once or twice.” she said with a shrug. 

 

He handed her a cue stick and offered to chalk it for her. Biting her lip she nodded yes. 

 

“Solids and Stripes?” he suggested and she gave a noncommittal lift of one shoulder. 

 

“Take it easy on her Oliver.” Digg said from the corner as he took another draw from his beer. 

 

She almost couldn’t control the glee that was rising in her as she watched Oliver rack the balls. She barely heard as he ‘explained’ the rules to her. Felicity nodded every now and then to make it seem like she was listening. 

 

“You want me to break?” Oliver asked, coming up behind her. 

 

“Not this time. Let me give it a shot.” she said, and he backed up some. 

 

Just as she leaned over to place the cue ball she turned her head slowly to look at Digg and gave him the most evil grin she could muster. 

 

“Oh shit.” she heard Digg say, “Kid, you’re gonna want to watch this.” he directed at Roy who came forward to see. 

 

The break was a thing of beauty. 

 

Balls sunk into the pockets with satisfying thuds and she turned to Oliver with the biggest shit-eating grin splashed across her face. 

 

He was in shock. 

 

Taking her time she proceeded to clear the table, sinking striped ball after striped ball until only the eight ball was left. 

 

She looked over the table to see exactly which pocket would be the hardest to hit and locked her eyes on his. “Eight ball, right corner pocket.” she announced and both Roy and Digg let out low whistles. 

 

When she sunk it without effort Roy cheered. 

 

“How?” was all Oliver said as he stalked towards her. 

 

She smiled, as she walked around the table taking balls from the pockets. “College. I was on full scholarship but it didn’t cover books or anything else to live on. So I learned how to shoot pool.” 

 

“That wasn’t just shooting pool.” he countered. 

 

“It’s just mathematics and physics.” she said, like what she’d done was no big thing. 

 

Oliver was only a few steps away now and she could see how dark his eyes were. A delighted tingle went through her. “It’s angles...and degrees, and...friction.” she said slowly, letting the word fall off her tongue at such a languid pace he was upon her before she’d finished speaking. 

 

She barely heard Digg or Roy’s disgruntled groans, or how the stick fell out of her hand as he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her into his chest. His mouth slanted over hers, tongue wasting no time as it swept past her lips. 

 

With a growl he grabbed the back of her legs and sat her on the table. She ran her fingers through his hair and over his shoulders, loving how his muscles tensed under her as she touched him. 

 

“I could explain the formula for the squirt angle.” she said lasciviously, and she gasped into him as his hand found it’s way beneath her shirt. His lips trailed across her jaw and down to her collarbone where they nipped the skin, making her arch up under him.

 

“What’s going on?” Thea asked, confused as to why Digg and Roy were on their way out the door when she had just gone to get more snacks and drinks. 

 

“Mom and Dad are at it again.” Roy said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he took the heavy tray from her. 

 

“Ew, really? Again?” Thea said with a wrinkle of her nose. 

 

“Yes, again.” Roy replied in disgust. “And he’s going to have that table refelted, aren’t you, Queen!” he yelled as they made their way out of the room, making sure the door was shut firmly behind them. 

 

Oliver dragged his mouth from her throat and shook his head in amusement. “It’s almost like they forget this is my house, and my pool table, and my wife.” he said with a growl as he pushed his weight into her, causing her to moan. 

 

She managed to find the button to his jeans and undid it, along with his zipper. She pulled back, her fingers dancing around the skin of his navel. His pupils were blown wide, and she never loved him more than like he was just then, completely taken by her and at her mercy. As her hand worked it’s way beneath the band of his boxers she gave him a wicked grin. “I could also explain how one ‘puts the english’ on the ball.” 

 

Her giggles turned into moans as her shirt was pulled over her head. 

 

Oliver, did indeed, have to refelt the table. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This drabble came to me after seeing a pic of a tactical garter. I thought it might be fun if Felicity had a talent for throwing knives. No connection to previous chapter.**

 

 

 

 

She’d trained hard with Digg during the months while Oliver was gone. He’d continued with hand to hand, but also wanted her to learn how to use weapons. Intellectually she knew with her size it would take years before she’d be a match for someone physically,  and as much as it turned her stomach, a weapon could help turn the odds in her favor.

 

Unfortunately she couldn’t shoot a bow and arrow worth a damn, her ability to fire a gun was only marginally better, although Digg felt sure she could hit ‘something’ if she had to. It was a surprise to both of them when they discovered she had a natural prowess for throwing daggers. 

 

She was scarily accurate, either throwing from the blade or the handle, in fact she beat Digg on a regular basis. He couldn’t explain her proclivity, he just bought her the best, most well balanced blades they could find. 

 

Since Oliver had returned she’d been mostly relegated to her previous tasks of anything tech related. The mission that night was the first one she’d gone on with them since he’d been back. 

 

She hadn’t missed the way Oliver’s eyes had looked her over head to toe when she stepped out of the bathroom in the lair. Digg had whistled appreciatively and she gave him a little spin in return, causing her skirt to flare out. 

 

“You’re not going to be able to do that tonight.” he cautioned as he handed over her tactical garter and two of her favorite blades. 

 

“You ruin all my fun.” she threw back at him as she propped her foot on a nearby chair and pulled the hem of her skirt up. She’d gone through several garters before she found one that stayed put and was comfortable.

 

She was sliding in the second dagger when Oliver’s hand landed heavily on her arm. 

 

“What are you doing?” he asked roughly, his voice deeper than usual.

 

She looked up in shock to see him only inches from her, an intensity in his eyes she’d never seen before. 

 

“I’m...I’m getting ready.” she said slowly,  

 

His hand hadn’t let go. His eye line slid straight to Digg where he waited for an explanation. 

 

“She’s good, man.” Digg said evenly, walking closer

 

“When did this happen?” he asked,

 

“While you were gone.” Felicity was the one that answered as she pushed the last dagger into place and lowered her leg. She couldn’t help the shiver that went through her as Oliver’s fingers brushed her thigh before her skirt fell down. 

 

“I don’t want you in the middle of anything.” he said gruffly. She forced herself to gather up everything else she’d need so she wouldn’t have to look his direction. 

 

“It’s a simple op. Nothing to be in the middle of.” she assured him over her shoulder, hoping she hadn’t jinxed them. 

 

He didn’t say another word, but she knew he was still bothered. 

 

Digg dropped her off at the location, and she fell into character. 

 

The chiffon skirt that swirled over her knees was frothy, and pink, and completely misleading. 

 

Her heels were slim, her hair curled loosely around her shoulders, her eyes were made up to seem as wide and innocent as possible. She exuded femininity. No one looking at her would ever think she was a threat. 

 

Felicity had managed to find a way into the highly exclusive club. She’d hacked their system, stolen the template for their invitations, and made one for herself. It was one of the easiest jobs she’d done since she’d started working for Oliver. 

 

He hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of her being alone at first. Their plan had him arriving half an hour later as Green Arrow and putting the fear of god into the attendees. That’s when she was supposed to slip into the office and access the secure server. 

 

She smiled lightly at the man at the door as she handed over her invite. When he granted her entrance she heard Digg’s voice in her ear telling her good job. 

 

She spent the next thirty minutes sipping champagne, flirting, and picking a good spot close to the office for when Oliver arrived. 

 

When the lights went dark unexpectedly she calmly sat down her glass while everyone around her began to panic. Walking backwards five steps she felt the solid support of the wall meet her back as she waited, hoping no one would trample her in the process. 

 

Emergency lighting came up and the screaming started again. Oliver now stood at the front of the room, looking imposing and menacing with his bow drawn. Felicity pretended to cower down as he yelled at the room to not move. 

 

The lights blinked one more time and she had slipped into the office. 

 

She blocked out the terrified screams, and Oliver’s growls as she got to work. The server was secure, but the protection around it wasn’t difficult to get through. In less than five minutes she had what she needed and had her ear pressed to the door waiting for her cue. 

 

When she heard the sound of rapid gun fire she almost screamed herself. The only security was supposed to be at the main entrance. Once they were taken out, that was it, no more threat. 

 

Without thought she threw the door open, and stayed down, hurrying to hide behind an overturned table. 

 

Oliver’s back was to her, his attention focused on the two men in front of him. He never saw the third gunmen enter from a side door. 

 

When he aimed his gun at Oliver, Felicity reacted. Her hand reached for the blade, only handling it for a split second before it cut through the air and found it’s new home in the man’s throat. 

 

Oliver saw the movement out the corner of his eye, firing off two arrows into his foes before he spun to see her. 

 

She was frozen, hand still in the position it had been in when she’d thrown it. 

 

She’d killed. 

 

There was a roaring in her ears, and then Oliver was right in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. She could see his mouth moving but she couldn’t hear. He forced her hand down and clutched her fingers in his. 

 

All she could see was her blade imbedded in that man’s throat. 

 

Oliver’s fingers wrapped around her wrist and tugged as he turned to lead her from the room. Her legs had forgotten how to work. She stumbled and fell forward, only missing the floor because he caught her about her waist. 

 

Then she was in his arms, the scalloped edge of her skirt catching her attention as it fluttered around them. Her head fell heavily to his shoulder as he made his way from the room. 

 

Sound was slowly coming back to her. She could hear Oliver’s strained voice telling Digg to bring the car around, and his questions about what the hell had happened in return. 

 

Oliver deposited her into the back seat of the sedan, Digg’s head whipping around to look as he saw her being carried. 

 

“Is she hurt?” he barked

 

“Drive!” Oliver ordered as he shut the car door with a slam behind him. 

 

His hands were all over her, moving her hair aside, turning her arms this way and that, even lifting her legs as he checked her for injuries. 

 

“Felicity, look at me.” he commanded, catching her face in his hands. 

 

He swum in front of her as tears blurred her eyes. “I...I...ki...killed him.” she stuttered out, before she completely fell apart. 

 

Oliver’s hands fell away as she turned to the side, burying her face in her hands. 

 

He didn’t touch her again until it was time to get out but she ignored the hand he reached out to her, instead her relied on the door frame to steady herself before she walked past both of them and punched in her security code. 

 

She was halfway down the stairs before she heard them behind her. Her desk chair was a welcome sight and she sank into it gratefully, as she stared at nothing. 

 

Oliver was already yelling at Digg when they entered the space. His voice echoed off of every surface, making her jump. 

 

“She is not like you! She is not like me! She doesn’t do this!” Oliver bellowed, while Digg bristled. 

 

“You can’t protect her all the time. She’s tough, she can handle it.” he retorted which only infuriated Oliver more. 

 

“I’d do it again.” she said woodenly, wishing they would stop yelling. 

 

Silence descended on them as Oliver and Digg slowly turned to look at her. 

 

“I’d do it again.” she repeated. 

 

“Felic...” Oliver began but she cut him off as she rose to meet him. 

 

One of her hands rested on his chest above his heart, right where the man had been aiming. “He was going to shoot you. Here. I’d do it again.” there was more conviction in her voice and she was vaguely aware of Digg stepping away. 

 

Her own words finally resonated within her and she knew she was right. She wouldn’t have done anything differently. She’d saved Oliver that night and she’d do it again if she had to. 

His hand covered the one on his chest and brought it up so he could study it. His eyes were sad as he looked at her. 

 

“These hands are not supposed to get blood on them.” his voice was empty as he spoke. 

 

She gave him a sad smile, “Sometimes I can do more damage with a computer than you can with an arrow. There’s more than one way to hurt someone.” she said pointedly. 

 

His other hand lifted to trace her cheekbone. The touch was so light if it wasn’t for the sparks of electricity he left behind she wouldn’t have known he was there at all. 

 

“Do you wish I hadn’t done it?” she asked,

 

His head bowed, “That’s not a fair question.” he said throatily. 

 

“He was going to kill you.” she said brokenly, “And you wouldn’t have come back this time.” tears slipped down her cheeks and he brushed them away as soon as they appeared until he couldn’t keep up with them any longer. 

 

Oliver let out a long exhale and lowered his forehead to hers. “I couldn’t let you die.” she whispered. 

 

He pulled her fiercely into his chest, his arms wrapping around her back, clutching her to him. Her fingers scrabbled in the leather of his jacket, grasping a handful of the hood and hanging on tight as sobs shook her. 

 

When she’d calmed some she felt the ghost of a kiss across her head before he pulled back. “Is it too soon to ask for you to show me exactly how good you are with those?” one of his hands dropped and just barely coasted over her thigh where the garter was. 

 

Her breath caught in her throat, and when he looked down at her she knew he was exactly aware of what he was doing.

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A fun little drabble that popped into my head about a moment in the lair.**

 

 

To say she was shocked when Oliver bodily lifted her from her chair and tossed her over his shoulder would have been an understatement. They’d had a long mission and she’d wanted to finish going over the files she’d swiped. He’d seen her yawning and insisted she finish in the morning. She’d resisted. 

 

Which is how she found herself with a very different view of the lair floor, as well as exactly how well his ass filled out the pants he wore. 

 

She only just managed to snag the edge of her tablet as he headed for the stairs. Working partly upside down, and with her hair hanging in her face she was only just able to make the necessary taps and strokes in time. 

 

When she heard his muffled curse she couldn’t suppress her giggles. 

 

“Felicity,” he growled.

 

“Yes!” she said in triumph, “Technology wins again over your basic cave man tendencies! It’s time to evolve, Oliver Queen, brute force won’t get you everywhere.” 

 

Her speech would have had a better impact if she still wasn’t thrown over his shoulder. 

 

“Open the door.” he said, ignoring everything she’d just said. 

 

“I can’t.” she replied, not even trying to keep the glee out of her voice.

 

“Felicity.” he warned.

 

“Nope. I used the emergency override. Can’t reset it for two hours. I designed the failsafe myself.” 

 

Slowly he let go of the iron grip he’d had around the back of her legs and let her slide down his chest. When they were even, but her feet not yet on the floor she blew loose hair out of her eyes and gave him a challenging look. “Gotcha.” 

 

The look of pure exasperation and annoyance on his face just made her giggle more. 

 

When he slid his hands under her thighs and hitched her upwards her legs automatically encircled his waist and her laugh cut off with a gasp. His eyes now held something else entirely, and it made her shiver.

 

With careful, deliberate moves he plucked the tablet from her hand and set it aside. 

 

“Now, what do you propose we do for the next two hours?” 

 

She gulped audibly, her heart now hammering out of her chest. This game had gone far beyond where she thought it would. Being slung over his shoulder was one thing, having her legs wrapped around him was something else entirely. 

 

The predatory grin he gave her made her stomach flip. He had the upper hand once again. 

 

She tried to center her thoughts, which was difficult when his fingers flexed and she realized they were still wrapped around her thighs. 

 

Her breath hitched, and his grin got wider. 

 

A need to retaliate flared within her. Locking her gaze with his, she dropped her hands to his chest and slid them upwards slowly, letting him feel the heat of her palms through his shirt. She rested them lightly on his shoulders and followed inwards until they lay on either side of his neck and stroked her thumbs in the hollow of his throat. 

 

Her breath hitched as she watched his pupils expand. The subtle shifts in his face let her know she had his complete attention. Just when he thought she was done she gave him a grin of her own and rolled her hips into his. 

 

That was all it took. He moved so quickly she didn’t even realized they’d shifted until her back hit the cold metal of the door he now had her pressed up against. 

 

His mouth dropped to hers, as it opened with a groan. Her nails scraped through his hair, and ran across his jaw as his tongue swept through her mouth. He pressed her harder into the door and she could feel exactly what she’d done to him. 

 

Without breaking contact he pulled her upright to move them down the stairs, and head for what she assumed was the couch. She gave herself a mental pat on the back as her lips worked their way down his neck. 

 

She’d lied about having to wait two hours. 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Had an idea about there being a panic room in the lair. This is what happened.**

 

**Enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

 

 

 

Felicity was making her way back from the kitchen area, hot mug of coffee in her hands when the klaxon alarms sounded. 

 

As the breaker automatically dropped and all the systems converted to generator the red lights swirled around her still frozen form. 

 

Then the mug fell from her grip and cracked on the concrete. 

 

Men in dark clothes and masks were swarming the lair. 

 

She heard shouts behind her as Oliver and Digg tore into the room. Bullets whizzed by her and still she didn’t move. An arrow went directly over her head as the intruder with the gun pointed right at her was taken down. 

 

Then she was wrapped in strong arms and being tackled. She tucked her head into Digg’s chest as he shoved her under her desk. “Get to the panic room!” he ordered and pushed a gun into her hand. 

 

He’d insisted she learned how to shoot, but it still didn’t feel right. 

 

Now that she’d been broken from her stupor, panic filled her. With shaking hands, and hearing the rapid gunfire over her head, she scrambled to flip the hidden switch that would transfer all their data to the backup servers. It was a failsafe she’d designed during the remodel three years prior. It also opened the door to the panic room, something that Digg and Oliver had scoffed over at first. 

 

The problem was that the panic room was across open floor, and right then she wasn’t sure she could make it. 

 

Digg and Oliver had flipped one of the equipment tables and were using it as a shield. The solid sides of her desk were keeping her protected, but only because the bad guys were on the other side of it. 

 

The gun was heavy in her slick hands and she didn’t want to have to use it. It was twenty feet to the panic room. 

 

She only hesitated a second when she heard Oliver yell, “Felicity, now!” 

 

She didn’t look she just tried to stay low and ran as fast as she could. There was movement from her left and she tried to keep moving and then there was an inhuman roar and Oliver came from nowhere, knocking her to the side. 

 

The breath temporarily left her lungs as she came to rest against the wall. She looked up to see three of the men left, two in hand to hand with Oliver. Digg was approaching now, saying something to her but she couldn’t seem to hear him. Her head filled with white noise and the sound of her own blood rushing so fast she didn’t know how she was still conscious. 

 

The panic room was only a few feet away and she pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she used the wall for support. 

 

She’d just entered the room and turned to press the button to shut the door when she was thrown backwards. Oliver’s eyes went wide in horror as he yelled “No!” before the door sealed between them. 

 

The silence was immediate and did more to throw her off than the fact she’d just been caught in a firefight. 

 

Her ragged breaths were the only thing she could hear as she tried to push herself to her feet. She needed to access the external monitors and make sure everything had transferred correctly. 

 

When she got to her knees her head swam and she had to reach a hand out to steady herself, that’s when the searing pain in her shoulder made itself known. 

 

Her hand went up automatically to cover her left shoulder, she wasn’t expecting the hot stickiness that she felt under her palm. 

 

She looked down and saw blood, a lot of blood. 

 

“Oh,” she breathed out. She’d been shot.

 

The room was stocked with basic first aid supplies, but she needed to secure the lair before she could focus on that. 

 

Trying to ignore the pain and the increased shakiness in her hands she half stumbled to the bank of equipment and pulled out the laptop she’d stored there. 

 

It took her longer than it should have to pull up the programs she needed. Everything was where it should be she saw with relief. They were safe. 

 

A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up within her as she realized her definition of safe was not exactly normal. 

 

Her vision blurred for a second and she knew her next issue was making sure the boys could get in if she happened to pass out, which, by the way she was starting to shake, was a distinct possibility. 

 

She’d foreseen this exact scenario when she’d set up the room. If one person was in the room there was a way to program a delayed unlock feature. It was risky because there was no way to know who would be on the other side when the door unlocked, but it was better than potentially dying alone with no one able to get in.  

 

White dots were starting to enter her vision as she struggled to get to the panel near the door where she needed to put the code in. Pulling herself to standing was an effort and her fingers slipped several times, leaving bloody smears until she was able to punch in the correct sequence. 

 

Her vision tunneled down to what was directly in front of her as she slid down the wall. She barely had the strength to reach out with her right hand and drag the laptop to her side. It took all her focus, and too much time to tap out a short text to Oliver. ‘One hour’ was all she had been able to manage and as she felt herself fading she hoped he understood. 

 

The next thing she knew was muffled sounds and hands on her before there was pressure on her shoulder and more pain. 

 

She was able to crack open one eye and saw Oliver with his jaw clenched looking at her with fear. She wanted to be able to tell him she was okay, but she couldn’t raise her arm. 

 

Pain ripped through her as she was lifted and she had to turn her head into his chest to keep from getting sick. 

 

“Just hang on.” Oliver said in a tight voice, moving quickly. 

 

Her good hand had a death grip on his shirt when he laid her on the table in the med bay and she couldn’t let go. He had to pry her fingers off before he gave them a squeeze. Digg was on her other side now, cutting away her sweater and pressing a new  gauze square to her wound. 

 

White hot pain consumed her and she couldn’t keep the cry of agony at bay. Digg was apologizing and Oliver’s hand smoothed over her forehead, as he wiped away tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed. 

 

“Put the damn I.V in and give her something for the pain.” he bit out harshly 

 

When she thought she could speak she blinked open her eyes and weakly lifted her hand until he caught it. She could feel Digg prepping her arm for the I.V but she ignored it. 

 

“Everything’s safe.” she told him, wanting him to know she’d done the transfer in time. 

 

“I don’t care about that right now.” he said raggedly. 

 

Her brain felt muddled and she tried to shake her head but it just made everything hurt. “Scan for bugs. Don’t know if it was a decoy...” she had to stop and rest, her words coming out slurred, but he needed to know. “Don’t move anything back...” she trailed off again, forgetting what she was trying to tell him. 

 

“Stop worrying. No one’s doing anything until you’re better.” his eyes looked frantic and she wanted so much to be able to rub away the deep furrow between his brows. 

 

His head shot up and looked at Digg and then he was crouching next to the table so they were at eye level. “You’re going to go to sleep now and when you wake up everything will be fine, okay?” 

 

He looked so worried. 

 

She tried to nod but it hurt. But she was able to move her hand over and cup the side of his face. “Don’t leave me.” she whispered. His eyes fell shut and he turned his head into her palm. Warm lips on her skin was the last thing she knew before there was a stinging sensation in her arm and everything went black. 

 

Consciousness was something that came back gradually. She floated gently on the other side of awake for quite awhile before a dull ache in her shoulder and the feeling of being too warm made her attempt to open her eyes. 

 

She was on the couch now, and there was a presence to her right. Slowly she turned her head until she could see it was Oliver, sitting in a chair pulled to her side with her hand still in his. Her fingers twitched and he sat bolt upright. 

 

“Felicity!” he said sharply hovering over her. There was more movement and Digg was kneeling next to the couch as well, one hand braced against the back as he looked at her with concern. 

 

She licked her lips and swallowed a few times before she tried to speak, “Hey,” she croaked out, 

 

“How do you feel?” Digg asked gently.

 

“Ow,” she replied honestly and he smiled.

 

“I’ll get you something for the pain.” he told her and slipped away.

 

Oliver was staring at her like he thought she might disappear if he wasn’t looking. “I’m okay.” she told him, but by the flash of anger that crossed his eyes she knew he didn’t agree. 

 

“I’m going to be okay.” she amended her statement and he pulled their clasped hands up so he could brush his lips over her knuckles. For just a moment he let his guard down and she saw everything he’d gone through. 

 

“I’m sorry.” she said softly, but he cut her off by pressing a quick desperate kiss to her lips. 

 

With their foreheads touching he let out his first real exhale in hours she suspected. “This ring has not been on my finger long enough to even begin to think about losing you.” he said throatily and tears pricked her eyes. 

 

“I quite agree, husband.” she hummed, still getting used to being able to say that even after six months of marriage. 

 

A flash of red appeared over Oliver’s shoulder and she saw Roy looking down at her with a mixture of worry and relief. He held out a glass of water and two pills which Oliver took from him. “Here, Barbie.” he said gently, as he passed them over. “You had the big guy pretty worried.” 

 

Oliver bristled slightly as he slipped a hand under her neck and helped her raise up enough to take the painkillers, holding the glass for her as she drank. 

 

“Everything taken care of?” Oliver asked briskly, and she had a pretty good idea he meant the stack of bodies that had piled up in the lair. 

 

“Yeah, boss, no problems.” Roy answered still hovering.

 

Oliver sighed heavily and she had to give him a small smile. It had always amused her how much Roy got under his skin. 

 

A thought struck her and she gripped his hand to get his attention, “Did you do a sweep? You didn’t transfer the servers did you? I know we’re off of the generators but...” Oliver cut her off with another kiss. 

 

“Stop. You don’t need to be worrying about any of this right now.” he told her firmly and she rolled her eyes. 

 

“Of course I do. Now, did you do the sweep or do I need to do it myself.” she threatened knowing what his reaction would be. 

 

He growled, actually growled at her. “Digg checked. Nothing. They were just muscle.”

 

She gave a tiny nod, “Who were they?” 

 

His eyes darkened, “We don’t know. I need my best girl for that.” 

 

The drugs were starting to take affect and she was having a hard time focusing. She saw Roy disappear and then it was just the two of them again. 

 

“You’re not two-timing me are you Mr. Queen?” she slurred, her eyes growing heavy. 

 

She heard a small laugh and was glad she could get that reaction from him. “You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Queen. Now, get some rest, we need you.” 

 

All she could do was hum her agreement as she gave up the fight and let her eyes fall shut. His hand stroked over her head and down her cheek and she felt his lips on hers one last time. “I love you.” he whispered and she fought to return the words to him before the pain vanished and she was asleep once again. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Just a small thank you gift for my lovely readers. Hope you have a wonderful holiday. Enjoy!**

 

 

Oliver adjusted his tie and glanced impatiently at his watch as he rode down fifteen floors to the accounting department. It was December 23rd and the company would be shut down for the next two days, which meant little to no work was getting done as most departments were having their holiday parties instead.

The big, company wide gala had been held two weeks prior and had included a live band, and free champagne, and a catered buffet. But Felicity had assured him that each group still had their own, smaller celebration on the last day before the holiday. She'd also heavily hinted that it might do his reputation well to stop in at as many parties as he could to show a more personal side of Oliver Queen, CEO.

When he'd agreed to that particular version of hell he'd thought she'd be at his side most of the afternoon, but she'd shoo'd him out the door after lunch by himself, pointing to the pile of papers that needed to be filed with one of the overseas offices before trading shut down for the day.

He'd tried giving her his most innocent, boyish look but she'd rolled her eyes and pointed to the elevator with a sharp finger. He was now leaving his third party and on to his fourth. There was enough store bought Christmas cookie in his stomach to make him want to be sick and if he was forced to drink another glass of ten dollar sparkling wine there was a chance he could be.

Which was why after he'd made the rounds, shaking hands, and thanking people for their hard work the sight of Felicity breezing through the cubicles was like seeing his own personal salvation.

He met her more than halfway, hand coming out automatically to take her by the arm like he always did, although there was a bit more desperation behind the act this time. "Thank god you're here." he said under his breath, not missing the smirk she didn't try and hide.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Queen, it can't be that bad." she said sardonically as his brows drew together in a scowl.

"Stop being such a Scrooge!" she admonished, thumping his chest with a rolled up paper. "You only have two more of these to go to and then you're done. And if you're very very good, I'll even find someone for you to play with tonight." she said the last part in a hissed whisper that only he could hear, and he couldn't help the way his eyes went wide at her words.

Felicity pressed her lips together and shut her eyes tight as let out a long exhale through her nose. When she looked at him again she only looked slightly chagrined. "Look, you forgot to sign these last two papers, which means I need you to do that asap." the papers and a pen were shoved unceremoniously into his hands and he took them without question.

"Is there anyway these have to be signed in my office? So I can leave?" he asked hopefully, but she didn't answer. Her head cocked to the side and she gave him the same long suffering look she'd perfected over the months of working with him.

"Right, of course not." he replied with a sigh, looking around for the nearest flat surface.

A nearby office door was open and he moved quickly to step inside, Felicity following. With a flourish he signed his name, rolled the paper back up and presented it to her like it was a sword.

She let out a sigh of her own and rolled her eyes again. "Stop eating the cookies, and drinking the cheap booze or you'll feel like crap and convince yourself you need to be on the salmon ladder all night. Not that that's a bad thing." the wink she threw in at the end had him looking at her in surprise,

"You did say you'd find someone for me to play with." he reminded her, leaning in close so his mouth was next to her ear. There was no denying the slight shudder she gave or the small gasp that escaped her lips.

She didn't reply, just ignored him and began to make her way out of the office. He followed with a barely suppressed grin, and came to a halt as she pulled up short waiting for two drunken employees to make their way past the door.

"Ooooooh, Mr. Queen! You have to kiss her!" the call came from their right and when he looked over several people in garish sweaters and santa hats were pointing and smiling.

He looked down at Felicity in confusion and saw her bright red face looking past him at something above his head.

His eyes shifted up with a slow dawning horror to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorframe.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" the chants began, and he was seriously considering banning alcohol from the premises when Felicity cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses.

"Oh just get it over with." she said fiercely although her voice sounded off and she wasn't meeting his eye.

She turned slightly and he took in her flushed cheeks and the way he could see her pulse beating wildly in her neck. There was a funny turn of his stomach as the thought of kissing Felicity passed through his mind.

A small huff of irritation came from her throat and he was surprised when she lifted on her toes and came towards him. He could tell she was aiming for his cheek, and later he'd never be able to say why he did what he did. Oliver turned his head at the last moment so her lips fell on his.

His eyes slammed shut as the world exploded in a flash of white behind his lids. The room dropped away, as his mouth moved over hers. This wasn't a friendly peck. He didn't realize he'd slid a hand into her hair until he used it to turn her head slightly to the side, giving him a better angle. The moan that came from her throat sent fire through his veins, and when her mouth opened beneath him he wasted no time in slipping his tongue inside, tasting her for the first time.

He felt her hands capture his face and slide back so her nails could scrape across his scalp leaving tingling trails in their wake.

A low din of noise made it's way through although it was Felicity who drew back first. Her eyes looked dark and glazed over and he'd never seen anything sexier. Right then, in that moment all the concerns he had about being with her fell away. All he knew was kissing her felt right.

The noise he'd heard was the majority of the accounting department bursting into applause. Felicity let out a little 'meep' of shock and ducked her head in embarrassment. Oliver let his CEO mask drop back into place and gave the people a small wave before he slid a hand over her back and began to guide her back to the elevator.

They were quiet until the doors shut and he risked a glance her direction. She had a shell shocked expression on her face and he remained silent until she turned to look at him. Her eyes went wide and then her hand was coming out and her thumb was wiping over his lips, no doubt removing her bright lipstick from his mouth. The action sent bursts of electricity straight down his spine and she froze when she noticed what she was doing.

Slowly he reached up and took her wrist in his before lowering it gently. "Are you sorry that happened?" he asked throatily, fingers softly trailing over the pulsepoint in her wrist where he still held her.

Her head shook back and forth mutely.

"Good." he answered and advanced on her.

Her gasp filled the car as he pushed her against the wall, his mouth falling to hers once again, although this time with more fervor. When she sucked his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down he growled low in his throat and pushed into her even more. Her hands were everywhere. Over his back, across his shoulders, through his hair and down his chest before they skimmed under his jacket.

His lips left hers and cut a path across her jaw and down her neck. The breathy mewls and sighs she let out were all the encouragement he needed. No thought to how this changed things between them crossed him mind. All he could think about was how to get her to gasp his name again like she'd just done.

"I think I know who I want to play with tonight." he muttered into her throat as he laved his tongue over one particular spot that had her writhing.

"Oh god, yes." she said back breathlessly.

Hands skimmed her waist and over her hip before he traveled down the length of one long thigh until he found the hem of her skirt. She groaned and hitched a leg up onto his hip before he could even act. The hum of approval he felt as he rocked his hips into hers was welcome as he stopped sucking a spot on her neck to make his way back to her mouth.

A throat being cleared repeatedly is what he eventually responded to. With effort he tore his mouth from hers and looked over to see the elevator doors open and one very disapproving John Diggle on the other side.

He didn't say a word, just lifted one eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

Felicity almost screamed, and clamped both hands over mouth when she saw him. Refusing to explain himself Oliver took his time running his thumb over his lower lip as he and Digg locked eyes.

"There was mistletoe." Oliver said evenly, as Felicity started to leave the elevator. His hand flashed out and caught her arm, keeping her by his side.

Oliver spared a quick glance at Felicity and gave her a supportive smile to let her know he wasn't going to pretend like it hadn't happened.

"Mistletoe?" Digg questioned, doubt in his voice.

Oliver's grin grew wider.

"Mistletoe,"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This wee drabble struck out of nowhere. It was inspired by a tweet from Marc Guggenheim where someone asked if Felicity had ever received that bottle of wine from Oliver he had promised her. He said she had, on May 16, 2013, and that she'd gotten drunk. That's Oliver' birthday and also the day after the Undertaking. The day after Tommy died. So that caused some feels. And this is what I did with them. Enjoy and let me know what you think!**

Felicity wasn't expecting to find the bottle sitting on her firescape.

She hadn't been in her apartment in almost forty-eight hours. She still wore the same pink cardigan she'd walked out of there with days ago, except now it was bloodstained and torn and covered in mortar dust.

The majority of her day had been spent sitting at Digg's bedside at Starling Memorial and then after he'd assured her he'd be fine she tried to find Oliver. His phone was turned off and the equipment she used to follow his tracker was offline under half the club. She'd headed home when she knew he didn't want to be found.

The open window should have been noticed long before it was. She was numb, feet shuffling as she made her way into her bedroom and headed straight for the shower. But something called her back and made her turn and see the warm late spring breeze ruffling the curtains.

So when her eyes landed on a bottle of very expensive red wine she knew exactly who had left it and tears spilled over her cheeks as she knelt on shaky legs to pick it up.

It was the bottle Oliver had promised her all those months ago. Before she knew he was the Hood, but after she knew what a horrible liar he was.

She had to hold it with both hands because of the trembling and she didn't think twice as she headed into her kitchen for a corkscrew.

As she pulled the cork from the bottle she tried not to think about what it could mean, because she was certain she knew and it made her heart twist.

The sun was sinking over the water and her west facing apartment didn't overlook the Glades. The door slid shut behind her and she sank to the uncomfortable floor of her balcony, looking out over what remained of the city they'd tried to protect, and failed.

Not bothering with a glass she took a long draw from the bottle, more tears coming when she realized she couldn't taste it.

It was May sixteenth and Oliver Queen turned twenty eight years old. His best friend had died eighteen hours ago in his arms.

The two thousand dollar bottle of wine in her hands was his goodbye.


	7. Happy Unbirthday

**A/N: The basis for this has sort of been brewing around in my head since I figured out that Oliver's birthday is one day after the day of the Undertaking. Which means it will now and forever be one day after the day of Tommy's death. So, there are feels ahead. But I think it ends on a fluffy, happy note.**

**So enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

The last thing Oliver expected to see when he arrived at his desk that morning was a cupcake, a card with his name on it, and a small present. The combination looked suspiciously like birthday gifts, except it was mid November and no where near his birthday.

His eyes rose immediately to seek her out. There was no doubt in his mind who had done this, but her desk was still dark and he remembered her telling him she was going to be late that morning.

He sat the cupcake to the side and slid out the card, recognizing her distinctive scrawl which always brought a smile to his face. The one time he'd pointed out her surprisingly messy handwriting she'd gotten toe to toe with him and reminded him that she did the majority of her work with a keyboard, not a pen, and that he shouldn't mention it again since it dragged up painful memories of the only time she hadn't received an 'A' on an assignment.

'Happy Un-Birthday', the front of the card said, and he knew he quirked an eyebrow at the phrase. Inside was blank except for a short message that he had to read twice and which made him sit heavily in his chair when he was done.

_"Because everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday, even you. Until you're ready for the real day again."_

His chest was tight and he knew his mind had blanked for a moment as the words swam in front of him. He looked desperately towards his calendar to see that it was exactly six months from the actual date.

Half a year and one day earlier had been the anniversary of the Undertaking. The anniversary of Tommy's death. Celebrating his own birthday a day later had never even occurred to him, and thankfully hadn't occurred to anyone else either. No one mentioned it. Not his mother, not Thea, and not Felicity. The day had come and gone silently, just like he wanted. But it had apparently not gone unnoticed.

The present beckoned and he picked it up hesitantly.

He tore the paper off carefully to reveal a jewelry box with the name of a very exclusive, very prominent jeweler on it that he knew had shut its doors years ago when the owner had retired. Now more intrigued and curious by how Felicity could have come to have the box in the first place he didn't wait as he opened the lid.

He wasn't prepared for what he saw. It felt like all the air had left his lungs as he recognized what was inside.

Secured on a bed of crushed velvet were the onyx and diamond monogrammed cuff links he'd bought Tommy for his twenty-first birthday.

He hadn't seen them in years. Tommy had more than enough cufflinks, but Oliver had remembered picking those out himself. His father had directed him to the jeweler and he'd been proud of the purchase. He remembered Tommy's exuberant thanks and declaration that he'd wear them the next chance he got. Then the box had been pushed aside and they spent the rest of the night getting wasted at the party he'd planned. But Oliver would never forget Tommy flashing the gift along with a broad grin at the next society function they'd been forced to attend.

However, he had no idea how Felicity had gotten hold of them or how she knew their significance.

The air shifted around him and he could sense without looking up that she was near. His eyes lifted to see her softly shutting the door behind her, hands clasped nervously in front as she made her way towards him. She clearly didn't know how he was going to react.

"While you…"she began, voice quiet and shaky, "while you were gone there was a public auction of the Merlyn estate. I don't really know why I went, it seemed sad somehow that all their things...all his things were just going to be snatched up by strangers." she said with a small shrug, still taking slow steps his direction until she ended up right beside him, staring down at the open box. "The cufflinks were on the list and when they came up the auctioneer spun a story about how they were a gift from a friend...I didn't know if it was true, didn't know if it was you but for some reason I couldn't let them go."

Her breath caught and she took a trembling inhale that made his heart swell to see, "So...I spent way more on them than I should have and...I've kept them all this time. It took me a little while to go through your financials, but I eventually found the purchase receipt and when I cross checked it with the date I sort of knew why you'd gotten it for him. Anyways, it just seemed right that they find their way back to you. And I know you're not ready to celebrate your birthday on your birthday and I totally understand that but…"

He had no words, all he could do was reach for her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her down onto his lap, letting out a long breath as she sank into him.

"Thank you," he said into her hair, the box still clutched tightly in his grip.

She sat back and took his face in her hands, eyes damp behind her glasses, "You deserve happy birthdays. You deserve happy stories."

His chest lifted as he crushed her to him once again. He knew it had taken him too long to let himself believe he deserved her, and even after months of being together he still sometimes wondered how he'd gotten so lucky.

Gentle fingers carded gently through his hair, and she was quiet until he finally pulled back, giving her a grateful smile.

She settled more comfortably on his leg before she took the box from his hand and sat it in front of him. "Now eat your cupcake. It's staring at me and it looks worried, and also delicious."

He pulled a face, but watched as she plucked it from the desk and pulled the wrapper down on one side. "It's a little early for cupcakes don't you think? All that sugar." he protested,

She shut him up by offering up the treat and not giving him a chance to say no. He took a large bite and made an appreciative noise at the flavor. A devious glint struck her eye just before she leaned in and licked a bit of frosting from his lip. His hands tightened on her hips and she laughed as she pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I don't think you have a problem with the sugar. You forget I know exactly how many pumps of vanilla you  _really_  like in your latte."

He pulled back in mock horror, "You promised to never divulge that information."

Laughing lightly she dragged her fingers down his tie and tugged him in close, "And I never will."


	8. The Boss's Wife

**A/N: This one began as a short drabble prompt on tumblr. That's where the first bit of this came from. Then...there were requests for it to be continued. And since this one actually had more brewing around in my head, I decided to write out the rest.**

**Enjoy, and let me know what you think.**

 

"You're bleeding!" Roy half shouted as he supported the majority of her weight as they made their way through the dark alleys of the warehouse district.

"It's nothing," Felicity replied, gritting her teeth and sucking cold air in high and sharp as she tried to ignore the pain that laced her side.

"It's not nothing! It was an arrow. MY ARROW!" Roy protested, guilt rolling off of him,

She made a feeble attempt to pat his arm but it hurt too much and she settled for grabbing onto the strap that held his quiver. "It's not your fault. You didn't know that guy was going to shove me just as you fired. I don't blame you."

Roy just snorted in disbelief, as he continued to move them. The rendezvous point was still half a mile away and she'd lost comms twenty minutes earlier. "You might not blame me, but  _he_  will."

Felicity didn't have a come back for that. She knew Oliver wasn't going to react well to her getting injured, and it would be even worse when he found out it was Roy that had hurt her, even if it had been beyond his control.

Her lack of response made Roy let out a low worried grumble, "He'd going to kill me." he muttered, "I thought dating his sister was bad...no, I'm a dead man for sure now."

"He's not going to kill you," she said automatically, but her words were slow and slurred and she felt Roy still beneath her for a second.

"Hey, Barbie, stay with me, okay?" his voice was tight with concern and she did her best to blink away the white spots that were beginning to dance in her vision.

Her legs became more leaden the more they walked and she stumbled more than once, causing Roy to tighten the grip he had around her waist. The hand he was using to apply pressure to the wound was heavy and she cried out in pain, knees finally buckling as she feebly tried to keep herself upright.

He let out a string of curses before he slipped an arm beneath her legs, lifting her and then began to move. Their pace increased as he hurried her towards the waiting car.

Oliver was not going to be happy when he saw them, she thought.

"Tell me something I don't know, Barbie." Roy bit out and she realized she must have spoken out loud. "Just hang on, we're almost there."

Only a few seconds later she heard a sound she was certain she never wanted to hear again as Oliver brokenly roared her name.

The blood loss had left her lightheaded and half conscious, but she could feel as she was transferred from one set of arms to another, and could vaguely hear voices above her.

When she was laying on the cool leather seats with one of his hands pressed into her side and the other cupping her face looking at her like he was about to lose his world she gave him the strongest smile she could. "Don't blame Roy, he didn't mean it."

Roy froze, half turned in the front seat as Digg got them out of there and she watched as he visibly gulped.

Oliver's face had turned to stone, his head slowly swiveling until he could unleash the full fury of his glare on it's intended recipient. "Harper," he ground out,

Roy's eyes were wide, his jaw ticking as he looked frantically between Oliver and her. "Um, so, thanks for that, Barbie. He didn't exactly know how you got hurt yet."

"Oops,"

The car was silent, the only sound her slightly elevated breathing as she tried to keep her vision from blurring. When Oliver sucked in a great breath of air, most likely to prep himself in order to begin laying into Roy it was Digg that spoke up. "Save it for later," he said sharply and she saw his eyes flick to the rearview mirror.

They went around a tight turn and suddenly Oliver's focus was completely back on her as he held her securely in place. She tried to suppress a grimace but it was impossible with the way her side throbbed in pain.

"We're almost there," he said softly and she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, trying to match her pulse to his.

The next thing she knew she was being laid carefully on the medbay table, the bright light above repositioned as her shirt was lifted, Digg's sure hands moving quickly.

"Sorry," he said, not looking at her as he bowed his head to get a better look. "Bullet? Doesn't look like a knife exactly."

Felicity shifted her eyes to the other side and saw Roy leaning against her table, head dropped, but he lifted it long enough to give her a tiny nod, letting her know he was ready.

"Arrow," she said quietly and hoped there was a chance Oliver hadn't heard.

The hand he'd been holding was dropped as he whirled and advanced on Roy with a fury she'd never seen before.

"What did you do?!" he roared,

Although he still wore his red leather suit, he may as well have had on his old red hoodie for as much as he looked like a kid just then and not a hero.

"I didn't mean to!" Roy cried, hands thrown up in front of him, "She was being held and just as I fired the guy shoved her out of his arms!" he rushed ahead, like he thought speed could possibly help his cause.

"I trained you myself to avoid situations just like that! What if it had been further in? She'd be bleeding out right now because of your reckless, careless, disregard for-"

Roy's eyes flashed at that and he pushed a hand out, separating him from Oliver who had been toe to toe with him. "Don't go there! I would never put her in danger and you know that! She's my sister in law. She's my family! So don't you dare say anything different."

"Really?!" Oliver countered, pushing back, "Then I'd like to know why your arrow found my wife's side."

"Hey! Time and place." Digg called as he got the suture kit out,

"Oliver!" she yelled, unable to keep quiet any longer. She watched as his shoulders stayed tense, fists clenched tight at his side as he and Roy were locked in a now silent battle.

Digg returned to her, sighing heavily as he observed Roy and Oliver, before he turned his attention back to her. "It's deep, going to need a few layers of stitches. It'll be better if I just put you out until it's over, a local isn't going to cut it for this." he already had the needle ready and was reaching for the inside of her elbow when she pulled out of his grasp.

"Felicity…"

Fear and guilt slammed into her as everything she'd been trying to ignore and hide for the past two days came flooding back. Her eyes pricked with tears and she could feel her pulse begin to rise again, the monitor she was hooked to starting to alarm.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, needle capped and forgotten as he set it aside and leaned in over her.

She met his worried eyes and took a shuddering breath, "You can't…" her lids fell shut as she tried to pull herself back together, "you can't give me that right now. It'll have to be a local."

Digg's eyes drew together in confusion and the monitor continued to blare bringing Oliver to her side.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked, his problem with Roy no longer important.

She didn't want it to happen like this and she didn't know what his response would be. Her hand flailed out desperately and found his.

"Felicity, why can't I sedate you?" Digg asked

"Please Digg, just...you can't okay. Trust me." she pleaded and held her breath as tears slipped from the corner of her eyes.

She knew when he understood, his head dipping for a moment before he scrubbed a hand over his face and squeezed her fingers in support. "Okay, we'll do a local, lots of local and...it'll still hurt like hell, I'm sorry."

"Thank you," she mouthed and saw how his gaze flicked to Oliver who she knew was almost vibrating in his need to know what was going on.

"Felicity…" he drew her name out long and low and she could tell it was taking everything he had to not demand that she let him in.

"Oliver...I'm sorry, this...this isn't how I wanted you to find out but…" her words cut off as Digg placed the first injection and for a minute all she could do was breathe through her nose and not try and get sick.

"Sorry, just wanted to get the first one in and working. I'll give you two a few minutes." Digg said quietly before he slipped away.

Felicity barely noticed him leaving, she couldn't look away from Oliver who looked more worried, and confused, and on edge than she'd ever seen him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I really am." her throat was clogged and she had to stop and swallow hard before she could go on. "But I just peed on the stick yesterday morning and we've been in the middle of this op, and planning for so long there just wasn't a good time. And I wasn't supposed to have to get out of the car. You know that. That wasn't part of the plan, but sometimes plans don't go right and we have to do what we have to do. Which is all I was doing. I didn't mean to get caught. I didn't. And then Roy was there and he saved me. I mean, I know I got hurt but if he hadn't been there it would have been worse and…" she trailed off when she saw his glazed over expression and she wondered how much he'd actually heard.

Roy's muffled, "Oh shit, oh shit, no." from the end of the table let her know he knew exactly what she was trying to say.

Oliver's mouth open and shut twice and when he did speak all he managed to get out was her name in such a soft, choked tone it made her cry.

"I'm sorry. I was going to tell you tonight at home, after this was all over." tears spilled across the bridge of her nose and down into her hairline and it wasn't until she felt his fingertips brushing them away that she realized how much she needed him just then.

"You're…"

Her hand cupped his cheek, feeling the rushing exhale as he leaned into her touch. "Yeah," she confirmed,

A noise she'd never heard before erupted from his chest as he grasped her hand and lowered his head over it, collapsing onto the stool Digg had pulled up just in time. The bones of her fingers were crushed together, but she didn't protest and didn't try to slacked his grip. This was something they'd talked about in vague, undefinable terms of maybe, and one day. And even though he'd come light years from the man who had proclaimed he had no happy stories, certain things were still a challenge for him to accept that he deserved.

She'd known since she saw the positive sign on the test that telling him would be the hardest thing she'd ever done; not because he wouldn't want it, but because he would want it too much.

Side still burning she reached across her chest and dropped her hand to his head, stroking softly through the short strands as he waged war with demons he'd only thought he'd buried. But as long as he stayed right there, not letting go, she knew they'd be okay.

A slow shuffling sound caught her attention, but she didn't turn her head, instead relying on her peripheral vision to let her know Roy had come to the other side of the table.

His eyes kept flitting from her wound to her still flat abdomen and she knew he was calculating how close he'd come.

"Stop it," she ordered, drawing her hand back over so she could reach for him. She caught the sleeve of his jacket and gave a tug. "You saved me. Don't think anything else."

Gradually he lifted his head and she could see the regret and sorrow etched across his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." he whispered,

"I know. It's okay." how she managed to be surrounded by guilt ridden heros she'd never know.

Digg appeared over Roy's shoulder and turned a concerned eye on Oliver who hadn't moved.

"He's fine," she mouthed, and Digg nodded before he gathered another injection.

Roy moved to stand above her head and she lifted her free arm up and back, fingers waving until he grasped them, holding on tight as another dose of the anesthetic went in.

This time none of them left. She let her eyes fall shut as she clung to Oliver, having faith that he'd work his way through his purgatory and come back to her.

The silence was broken when Digg announced he was ready to start and she gave him a short dip of her chin to know he could begin.

For fifteen minutes he worked quietly, focused on his task as she anchored herself between Oliver and Roy and concentrated on just taking one breath after another.

She didn't open her eyes when Digg said he was done, or after he taped on a bandage. Roy squeezed her hand once and then lifted it up to lay gently across her middle before he pressed a hard kiss to her forehead and left the space.

Her fingers found their way back to Oliver's head where she resumed her ministrations, willing to wait as long as necessary. Digg had draped a blanket over her and now that the adrenaline had worn off she was getting sleepy although she knew she'd never fall asleep before she talked to him.

When the hold he had on her hand began to loosen she didn't notice at first because her fingers were numb. It wasn't until she felt his head lift that her eyes flew open.

Their eyes met and she let out a sob of relief at what she saw, wide smile cracking her face. "Oh thank god, I was sure I couldn't do it by myself." she blurted out.

His hands captured her cheeks and then he was kissing her, desperate and wet from tears that weren't only her own. "We're really doing this?" he asked in awe and she nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, we really are."

He looked happy. Truly happy, and it filled her with a peace she'd never felt before. The last dark corner of his soul had been burned away. He looked like a different man now, one that she only loved more.

His fingers tangled with hers and together he moved them down low to rest over her belly. "Thank you," he said against her lips, making her sob again, happily.

His smile grew as he brushed back loose hair from her face and looked at her like she'd given him the world.

"Hey, Kid!" he called out suddenly, grin getting wider even as he kept his eyes locked on hers.

Roy appeared on the opposite side of the table and even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel how nervous he was.

"Yeah, boss." he said, clearing his throat as he spoke.

Oliver never looked up as he pressed a kiss to her cheek and then gave her a wink, "Why don't you call your wife and tell her she's going to be an aunt."


	9. Who do you think you are?

**A/N: Another one sentence prompt that got a bit out of hand. Hope you enjoy!**

**\- “Who do you think you are?”**

 

They’d returned from the mission that night as they had more often than not lately, with Roy complaining as he trailed down the stairs behind Oliver.

 

That night was no exception, and as usual, Oliver shot her an exasperated look before he stowed his bow and began to unstrap his quiver. Except that night Roy took it too far.

 

Felicity typically blocked out most of his sarcastic, angst filled comments because she knew life hadn’t been that great for him before he’d been injected with the mirakuru. But as he followed after Oliver, voice raising she heard a different tone, a more snide one that was crossing the line from frustration to attack.

 

He hadn’t finished his tirade, a blistering commentary on how easy it must be for Oliver to fight crime with his million dollar lair and privileged lifestyle. “You wouldn’t know a hard time if it bit you on your ass, Queen!” he spat out, but that’s as far as he got.

 

Felicity was on her feet, heels clacking dangerously as she crossed right to him. She didn’t spare a glance towards Oliver or Digg as she marched straight up to Roy and grabbed a handful of that damn red hoodie.

 

Without a word she spun and began to drag him with her, his feet shuffling, mouth sputtering as he allowed himself to be bodily moved, because they both knew he could have stopped her at any time.

 

She heard Oliver start forward behind her, but she threw up a hand and kept walking, “I’m handling this. You two go get dinner.” she ordered without a look back and made her way into the dark recesses of the foundry, to a spot she knew Oliver liked to hang out in sometimes when it was all too much and he needed the quiet and the dark.

 

There was one folding metal chair and faint light that came from a weak bulb fifteen feet in the air. None too gently she pushed Roy into the seat and stepped back, arms crossed to look down on him.

 

He looked petulant, and angry, but she was angrier. He started to speak and she shot him a glare that snapped his jaw shut in an instant, before he slumped down and let his hand lay loose over his thighs, like he had all the time in the world.

 

His complete apathy just then, coupled with the words he’d said to Oliver made her own anger rise until she felt her face flush with heat and she had to ball her hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

 

“I know you’ve had it bad, Roy. I get that.” she began, ignoring the way his eyes flashed at her, and the expression in them that said she didn’t get anything about him, but she pushed on. “I get that it was bad before the mirakuru, and it’s been even worse since. But this isn’t a pissing contest between you and Oliver to see who’s had the harder life.”

 

She paused, and she saw him relax just a bit and she realized with a sad shake of her head he thought it was because she was siding with him.

 

“Oliver wins. Every time.”

 

He started forward at that, eyes narrowing as he fought for control, and Felicity held her ground.

 

“He went through hell, Roy. Literally. The name of the island he was on translated to ‘Purgatory’. I know you’ve seen the scars. They weren’t self inflicted. Think about that. For just a moment, come out of your own rage, and your own problems and actually look at the people around you. And think about five years of that. Five years of constantly fighting for your life, day in and day out, and how that changes a person.”

 

His eyes finally fell away, and she thought she saw a flicker of shame, so she pressed on.

 

“Surviving the island would have been hard enough, but he wasn’t alone. So consider every burn, every bullet hole, every knife wound, every broken bone. With no medicine, no sedative, no pain relief. There was nothing but torture, and death, and the fact that he made it off that island is testament enough to the man he is. And yet you think he doesn’t know the definition of a hard time.” she attempted to keep the bitterness out of her voice and failed. She was practically vibrating now as she tried to keep her words under control.

 

“Everyone has a past. Everyone has scars. Some you can see, some you can’t. Sometimes the ones you can’t see are the worst. It’s how you deal with it that matters. Consider what he went through and count yourself lucky he isn’t bringing hell down upon this city.” she said with a shudder, “Honestly, if he did I would understand. But he didn’t break. He used what happened to him and turned it into a catalyst to do good. That tells you everything you need to know about him.”

 

Roy slid up slightly, no longer slouched, and slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. He could see the thoughts swirling, the questions he undoubtedly had, and maybe just a bit more understanding for the man he was supposed to be learning from.

 

Carefully she approached him, crouching down next to his knee. Her voice was softer when she spoke, “So the question is, Roy Harper, who do you think you are? Are you a hero or a villain? It could go both ways, just like it could have with Oliver. It’s a choice, and you’re the only one who can make it.”

 

Her hand rested lightly on his leg and gave it a squeeze before she stood. As she turned to leave his hand shot out and grabbed hers, holding on tight for a long moment before he let it go and she couldn’t help the small smile that crossed her face as she headed back to the main part of the lair.

 

Not surprisingly, Oliver was leaning against the back of her desk, ankles and arms crossed, waiting for her.

 

“I thought I told you to go with Digg,” she admonished lightly as she walked towards him, but she should have known he wouldn’t have left her alone with Roy when he was angry.

 

The closer she got however, she could see that his brow was drawn and there was a heavy look in his eyes.

 

“You really think I could have gone bad?” she heard the hurt in his tone, and the final few feet that separated them were erased,

 

Smiling sadly her hand wrapped around his forearm as she looked up at him already shaking her head, “No, and I’m not surprised you heard everything I said.” she said wryly, but his expression didn’t change,

 

With a sigh she moved even closer until he was forced to drop his arms and let her in. She lay one hand over his heart, the other fell down to tangle her fingers with his. Patting his chest lightly she felt a wave of tenderness and love fill her, and wished, not for the first time, that he could see himself the way she did. She traced a pattern over the leather he still wore and waited for him to look at her.

 

“This…this is why I know you could never go bad. Your heart is so much bigger than you give yourself credit for. You care, Oliver. You care so damn much.”

 

“But you said…”

 

She cut him off with a finger over his lips and they both paused, her breath hitching at the spark of heat that shot through her hand and down her arm. “I said I would have understood if you’d gone bad, and I would have. On paper...it would have made sense. Oliver, what you went through...I don’t know a fraction of what happened, but I know it was horrible, and that horrible is probably too nice a word, but I can’t think of a worse one right now.” a small shiver ran up her spine and she had to force away images in her head of her imagination trying to come up with scenarios for how he’d come to have some of his scars. It wasn’t until she felt the heat of his palm resting at her waist that she was able to look at him again through slightly watery eyes.

 

Her hand fell from his mouth to lay once again on his chest, “You’re a good man, Oliver Queen. Even though you have every reason not to be.”

 

His head dropped with a ragged exhale and then she found herself being pulled into his chest as strong arms banded about her. It took her a moment to relax, but when she did she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart under her ear.

 

“You make me better.” he breathed into her hair, and for once words got lost in her throat as she blinked rapidly, her lashes fluttering against green leather. She just held him tighter and tried to commit the moment to memory.

 

Oliver made no move to let her go and she didn’t either. It wasn’t until he lifted his head slightly that she turned her face to see Roy standing awkwardly off to the side. He shifted from one foot to the other and looked between her and Oliver.

 

His grip on her loosened and she knew he was giving her the option of stepping out of his embrace, but she didn’t want to let go and she didn’t think he wanted her to either. So she just pulled back a few inches, enough that her hands rested on his side and she could fully see Roy.

 

The kid cleared his throat and finally rolled his eyes at himself before speaking, “I’m sorry, I didn’t...I didn’t think.”

 

“We’re not going to let you fall through the cracks, Roy.” Oliver said gruffly, and the younger man nodded as he looked at them.

 

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to figure that out.” he said in a thick voice, eyes dropping to the floor unless they saw too much. “Anyways, gotta get upstairs for my shift.” he was already moving when he stopped, but didn’t turn around, “Thanks, Barbie.”

 

The echo of the door slamming shut at the top of the stairs was still ringing in the space as she processed what she’d just heard.

 

“Barbie?” she questioned, nose wrinkling, not sure if she liked it or not,

 

The fine muscles around Oliver’s mouth were quivering slightly in an attempt not to smile and she gave him a withering look. “Really?”

 

“I don’t know...I kind of like it.”

 

She swatted his arm in mock indignation, “You stop,” she ordered,

 

“Consider the source. You got through to him. He’s letting you in.”

 

Head tilted to the side she thought about what he’d said, “I’ll think about allowing it.” she agreed half-heartedly, “But you’d better not get any ideas and think you can do the same. You are not allowed to call me anything but my actual name. I love the way you…” her cheeks pinked at what she’d almost admitted.

 

The grin that had been threatening to crack Oliver’s face broke through, and this one she’d have to define as ‘shit-eating’. A swirl of need turned in her belly and she had to look away quickly before he saw.

 

She gulped when he leaned down, hands tightening at her hips, and when his lips brushed the shell of her ear she couldn’t help the small noise that came from the back of her throat.

 

And when he whispered one word she thought she might come undone, right there.

 

“Felicity,”

 


	10. Ten a.m. on a Tuesday

**A/N: This just sort of came out of nowhere. It started out as something completely different, and then took me by surprise and turned into this. I kind of love it.**

**Enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

It was ten a.m on a Tuesday.

They were in his bed, sheets somewhat covering them as she lay on her stomach facing him, chin propped on one hand, the other lazily tracing the Chinese characters that stack down his side.

She'd never asked what they meant, and if she ever took it upon herself to translate them she'd never said. He suspected she did know the meaning, but it was just a theory. She'd never asked about any of his other tattoos either, or his scars for that matter.

It's not because they didn't matter to her, if anything they matter too much.

Her hair was a riot of wild curls, so different from the usually sleek, smooth look she wore to the office each day, but he liked it. Liked how it spilled over her bare shoulder where the shirt had slipped off. Liked how she was almost constantly having to tuck it behind her ear, only to have it spring free again. Liked how when she looked up at him through her lashes with a soft smile on her face that only he got to see the twists of gold made her eyes look more blue than he thought possible.

It was ten a.m on a Tuesday and they were in his bed because she almost died twelve hours earlier.

He'd found her with only seconds to spare, much too close for his ragged heart to accept. The man slowly choking the life out of her was dead before he hit the ground and Oliver didn't spare him another thought.

She had a pulse, barely, but wasn't breathing and as his mind threatened to shut down, his throat clogging with tears, he took one more look at the woman who lay still before him and knew he'd do anything to save her because he'd be dead without her.

As his lips covered hers for the first time, breathing life into still lungs, every stupid wall he'd erected, every ridiculous rule he'd created in order to keep her away from him under the guise of keeping her safe crumbled into dust.

He forgot to count the breaths he was giving her, forgot how to do everything properly because the only thought whirling through his static filled mind was that she could not die.

He'd tried to keep her out and failed. She was light, seeping through every small crack and crevice, the tiny structural weaknesses in his walls no match for her brightness because she'd started a slow process of erosion from the moment they'd met.

This entire time he'd thought the walls still stood strong. He'd thought being her friend had been enough, but what he hadn't realized was how it had become so much more than friendship. There was trust, and loyalty, and love and she wasn't outside his walls anymore, she was standing right next to him.

When the first puff of air emerged from her lips he felt lightheaded by the wave of elation that washed over him. He pulled back only far enough to cradle her face in his hands and wait for her to do it again. He whispered pleas for her to breathe, to be alive, to not leave him.

She coughed and choked and sputtered, face going red and tears seeping from the corner of her eyes, but she was breathing and alive and nothing else mattered.

He hauled her to his chest, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other wrapped around her back, palm spread as wide as possible so he could feel each breath she drew into her lungs.

Overwhelmed, he didn't notice that he kept muttering 'thank you' over and over into her hair. When her cool fingers landed on his face and brushed away tears he hadn't known he shed he let out a jagged exhale and held her even tighter.

She stroked a hand over his head, knocking the hood back as she did, but neither of them bothered to pull it back up. She tugged him down until his forehead pressed into the hollow of her neck, to the spot where angry red marks were already beginning to bloom. Her soft sounds of comfort as she now held him eased the ache in his soul.

When he lifted his head up to finally find her eyes there was no need to say a word. It was all there. Everything that had been there since the beginning, only strong as steel now and unbreakable. She gave him a small wobbly smile and half a shrug as her hand came up to touch his cheek.

His lips covered hers that time desperate and hard because she'd almost died, and it was all too close and he could no longer deny everything that had happened.

By the time the rest of the team caught up with them they were standing, his hood back up, one arm wrapped tight around her waist. Only Digg caught the red eyes and the way he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop touching her.

He tried to act normal when they returned to the lair. He busied himself with putting away his gear and changing while Digg checked her out, and gave her something for the swelling and pain. But he couldn't go longer than a few seconds without looking her direction and all it took was one small flash of her eyes to get him to her side again.

When Digg shook his head and muttered how it was about damn time Roy was left looking on in confusion.

Her eyes were starting to droop and he barely said two words to anyone else before he scooped her off the med bay table and headed for the stairs. If there were any doubts about the change between them, he effectively ended them there.

Which is how they'd ended up in his bed. Leaving her for the night was not something he'd even considered. She was asleep by the time he pulled up in front of the mansion and barely stirred as he slid off her shoes and tucked her between the sheets.

He lay awake for hours just watching her breathe. Counting the rise and fall of her chest as if he needed to keep watching or she might stop again.

When she woke up from a nightmare he talked her down, and then held her sobbing, shaking form as she relived the terror. Haltingly and with a raspy, pained voice she told him how it had burned, and that the last thing she had seen through her rapidly greying vision was him coming to save her.

She'd been awake after that and wanted a shower. The twenty minutes she was out of his sight were agony and he found himself pacing the floor until she stepped out wearing his discarded pullover.

Without a word she climbed back into the bed and held her hand out to him. He curled around her, burying his face in damp hair that smelled like his shampoo and fell asleep pressing kisses to her neck.

The light touch on his ribs is what woke him, not the bright mid morning light, or the fact that he'd actually slept for six hours straight. Her finger trailed over his skin, carefully mapping each character, fully finishing with one before she moved on to the next.

When she noticed his stares she looked up and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

It was ten a.m. on a Tuesday and for the first time in six and a half years he could see his future, and he liked what he saw.


	11. We make a good team

**A/N: Another short piece from the one sentence drabble prompts. This one was ‘We make a good team.’I was struck with a few lines of dialogue between Felicity and Lance and...next thing I knew this was just sort of happening.**

 

**Enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

 

 

“We make a good team,” Lance said breathlessly. She caught him as well as she could and helped him slide down the brick wall behind them. His service weapon was still clutched in his right hand even though she knew that was the same side the bullet had hit, high on his shoulder.

 

Air sucked sharply through his teeth as she pushed down on the wound ignoring how much blood seemed to be seeping from beneath her palm. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said with a wince, lifting her head to look around and make sure there was no one left to attack them unexpectedly, but the man who had shot Lance just before he had returned fire lay still and silent on the other side of the alleyway. 

 

Lance was attempting to sit up but it only took a small amount of pressure from her for him to lay back with a groan, “Stop trying to get up.” she admonished lightly, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, “I know how you feel right now, getting shot isn’t a good thing,” 

 

His head whipped towards her at that, the shock on his face letting her know he was feeling no pain just then, “You’ve been shot?” he asked incredulously, “When the hell did you get shot? That stupid son of a bitch is going to get you killed one of these days,” his anger on her behalf was touching, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him she had been shot protecting his daughter.

 

“He’s firmly on your side with that line of thinking, don’t worry. Brooding and guilt laden is just his warm up act. Besides, like I always tell him and like I’m telling you now, it’s my life, it’s my choice.” 

 

He let his head fall back with a grunt and she suspected an eye roll although she couldn’t be sure. “Yeah, I hear that from Sara and Laurel all the time.” he muttered under his breath, “Independent women every last one of you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” 

 

“You raised strong women, Detective, nothing wrong with that.” as soon as the words were out of her mouth she felt her cheeks flush, “Not that I’m implying that I’m equal to one of your daughters, to you, I mean, I’m sure I’m equal to them in other areas….” she sighed and shut her eyes for a second, “They’re lucky to have you as a father...I….I didn’t have that so…”

 

She looked around again, wondering how long it would take for Sara and Oliver to arrive, along with the ambulance she knew they’d called. 

 

“Hey,” he said softly, grimacing as he reached one hand over to cover hers, “I care about you, okay? You snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking and...I don’t want you getting hurt,” 

 

“I don’t want you getting hurt either,” she said almost fiercely as his hand squeezed hers. There was a pang in her chest as she wondered if this was how it would have been like if her father had stayed. 

 

When the Ducati roared to a stop next to them she didn’t look up until Sara was crowded to her left, “Dad!” she exclaimed, hands hovering over Felicity’s as if she suddenly didn’t know what to do,

 

“Ambulance is on the way, right? Just hold here, it’s not that bad,” Felicity assured her, not moving until Sara’s hands had replaced her own,

 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Lance said, and it took her a moment to realize he was talking to her and not Sara. 

 

When she climbed to her feet, she noticed Oliver was in his suit, but Sara had come as herself and not her alter ego. 

 

Good, she thought, that meant she could go with her father to the hospital. 

 

She could feel the tension radiating off of Oliver as he approached and she braced herself for the angry words she was certain were going to follow. She was only supposed to have met with Lance to retrieve a file, nothing more. Getting shot at unexpectedly wasn’t part of the plan. Lance had shoved her out of the way before he’d returned fire. 

 

She’d almost left the lair without slipping in her earpiece but had gone back and put it in, knowing that she wouldn’t have let Oliver leave without one. When he and Sara had heard the gunshots over the comms she’d heard his frantic voice and had been able to reassure him before she’d rushed to Lance’s side. 

 

“You’re hurt,” was not what she had expected to hear him say,

 

Felicity looked down and saw the front of her dress was stained with blood, along with her hands which she wiped hastily across the already ruined fabric, “No, it’s okay, it’s Detective Lance’s, not mine. No more scars, promise,” she said with a tight lipped smile, hoping to get him to understand she hadn’t been injured,

 

“You’re hurt,” he repeated, this time motioning towards her legs as she stepped closer,

 

Her right knee was skinned, and both knees would have bruises, but it was nothing compared to what it could have been if she hadn’t been knocked out of the way. 

 

“Hey, I’m fine, promise,” she said quietly as she closed the distance between them, hand coming up to rest along the strap of his quiver,

 

“But--”

 

“No buts,” she ordered, hand halfway up to lay a finger across his lips when she froze, knowing that wasn’t a good idea, “I’m fine,” 

 

She could almost feel his exasperated glare, even though his eyes were almost totally in shadow. 

 

The sound of sirens approaching halted any further conversation, 

 

“You guys need to get out of here,” Sara threw over her shoulder, never taking her eyes off her father,

 

Oliver sighed, hands clenching because she knew he wanted to run a hand over the back of his head and couldn’t,

 

“Let’s go,” he said gruffly as he reached out to take her by the elbow,

 

“My car is two blocks that way,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction, 

 

“We’ll get it later,” he stated, his tone letting her know he wasn’t going to hear a thing she said right then,

 

However, when they turned and she remembered he’d ridden the motorcycle there she balked, 

 

“No. No way, mister, I’m not getting on that thing,” 

 

He whirled in an instant and had her by the shoulders, head bowed over her as she craned her neck back to look at him, and this time she could see his eyes. She also saw all the worry and fear he’d gone through, even if it was for only a few minutes when he thought she’d been hurt,

 

“Felicity…” he began, but it was all he needed to say. With a sigh she nodded and she felt his exhale of relief cross her face as he canted towards her for just a second. 

 

He worried about so much, she couldn’t add to his burden. 

 

Even if it meant agreeing to ride to the lair on the back of the Ducati while wearing a skirt. 

 


	12. Ever and Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a little bit of fluff that attacked me today. Enjoy!!

The line at customs was long, but instead of being irritated or impatient she was content, happy to wait as they slowly shuffled forward. Her foot slid back, heel hitting the brown boot of the man who stood immediately behind her, so close all she had to do was tip her weight back only a few degrees and she’d be leaning against his broad chest.

With a happy hum she did just that, smiling as she felt his arms automatically come up to encircle her waist. His palm smoothed over the patterned top she wore, finding the inch of skin exposed above her skirt, his fingers trailing teasingly along the edge.

Glancing down she was still surprised to see the simple platinum band on his left ring finger, and she dropped her hand to cover his, loving how the glint of the diamonds, and shine from her matching ring caught the light, even if it was the overly bright fluorescent bulbs of the airport.

He didn’t let her go as they moved forward a few more feet, but when she flipped her passport open out of habit, thumb marking the page where her name and picture were he caught her wrist and tilted it up so he could look as well.

She felt the rumble in his chest a millisecond before he spoke, head dipping down near her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. “You going to change that?”

At first she was confused, but when his thumb tapped the word ‘Smoak’ she knew what he meant.

There had been no expectation in his voice, no assumption, but it was something that had somehow never been discussed.

“Um...I...wow...I honestly haven’t even thought about it,” she answered truthfully as he laughed and held her closer, both arms wrapped around her now.

When his head moved again to nuzzle the spot behind her ear that always made her weak kneed she wasn’t expecting him to speak.

“I have. I’ve thought about it a lot. Long before I had any right to,” the admission was whispered into her skin and in an instant she’d turned in his embrace, ponytail almost whipping him in the face, as she looked up at him in surprise.

“Oliver--”

“Hey, no pressure, really. It’s up to you.”

“I...I mean...I’ve been a Smoak for...well, forever. I never thought about being anything else, you know. And I never thought I’d be one of those women who hyphenated. ‘Smoak-Queen’...sounds like some sort of super villain if you ask me,” then her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open because it was the first time she’d referred to herself as a ‘Queen’.

Oliver’s eyes danced as he reached up to cup her face, drawing her close enough to drop a kiss to her lips, “I told you, it’s your choice. I was just asking if you’d thought about it and obviously you haven’t. It’s okay.”

But before she could respond the line suddenly began moving quickly and she had to scramble to grab her bags to keep up. When she reached the agent she handed over her passport and cut a quick glance to Oliver who waited behind her.

“What was the purpose of your visit, Ms. Smoak?” the disinterested agent asked as he scanned her identification.

“Honeymoon,” she replied with a broad smile.

“Congratulations. Welcome back to the U.S.”

Felicity retrieved her things and walked a few feet away to wait for Oliver who she was glad to see had the same dopey smile on his face as she did when he answered.

She couldn’t help biting her lip, eyes running up and down his muscular frame as he tucked his papers into his jacket pocket and bent down easily to grab his bag. His free hand reached out for her immediately and she slid into his side, head resting under her shoulder as they headed for the exit where Digg would be waiting.

They’d been gone from Starling for two weeks. The first three days had been a scheduled visit to see her mother in Las Vegas. A long weekend away just the two of them and they’d both worried about what was going on back home almost the entire time. Until on the third day as they wandered down the strip hand in hand he suddenly stopped and asked if she wanted to marry him right then.

Two hours later it was official. She sent a picture of their hands and rings and nothing more to those closest to them and it was Digg who wrote back that the city was safe and in good hands and they should go have fun.

The next thing she knew they were flying out of McCarran International securely ensconced in two first class seats headed for London.

After that they hopped all over Europe, never in one city or one country longer than a night. There were planes and trains and even a boat once when they cruised the Rhine although they never left their cabin from port to port and she’d argued that it had been a waste of money.  Oliver had quickly replied he didn’t care and then reminded her why it hadn’t been a waste at all.

They’d taken the red-eye in from Rome, the only direct flight she could get them when her PA Gerry of all people had sent her numerous frantic emails pleading for her return before all of Applied Sciences fell apart without her.

“Apparently your company can’t run without me,” she’d grumbled when she’d told Oliver but he’d just laughed and said he’d known that all along.

She was anxious to see Digg and get back to their lives however. She didn’t really think being married would change that much, but every time Oliver drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her ring she thought maybe it meant more than she’d anticipated.

Which was why it took her another two weeks before she walked into his office one day and pushed his keyboard out of the way as he looked on in patient amusement.

One by one she placed the items in front of him; driver’s license, social security card, debit card, credit card, passport, and finally her vip card to her favorite coffee place.

Each one was brand new and each one said ‘Felicity Queen’.

**  
  
**


	13. When the Sun Came Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some well deserved fluff. Slight spoilers for 3x09, but this is set in the future. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

“Okay so...no snow and no tropical islands...this is really going to limit our honeymoon destinations, you know.”

Felicity rolled over onto her stomach, tablet in front of her as she peered up at him through her lashes, blonde hair spilling around her shoulders in messy waves that he couldn’t help touching.

With a grin he scooted further down into the pillows, reaching out to brush the tangled strands away from her face, fingers just coasting over her skin as he did.

She leaned her head into his hand and smiled, turning so her lips could press into his knuckles. These were the moments he still had a hard time believing belonged to him. Slow mornings in bed with her at his side.

“You’re going to have to explain that one to me,” he returned, slipping one finger under the thin strap that ran over her shoulder and tugging it down until it slid off, earning him a lifted eyebrow that he ignored.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be too keen on endless white sand beaches and the crash of the surf. We can’t get through a thunderstorm without you waking in a cold sweat. So that negates about ninety percent of all your typical honeymoon locations. And…” she trailed off, swiping aimlessly from one page to another on the screen in front of her.

“And…” he prompted, not even bothering to try and tell her he’d be fine with an island vacation. It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but he didn’t want to deny her. However, he also knew she’d never go for it for those very reasons, and he loved her for it.

“And I don't think I could handle the snow. Even if it was some cozy chalet in the Alps. I…” an involuntary shudder went through her, eyes shuttering for a second as she got caught in a memory. He let his palm coast down her arm until he could cup above her elbow and squeeze.

“Anyways, after traipsing over half a damn mountain range to find you...I just associate snow with you being dead. I know it’s dumb and--”

“Nothing you do is dumb,” he interjected, pulling her forward as he leaned down to meet her, lips finding hers in a soft kiss that left her humming, “But I’m fine with not going to the Alps.”

“Okay, good,” she replied, her relief evident and as she continued to flip from screen to screen he let his fingers trail up her arm and down her back as far as he could reach.

“So...there’s always an African safari? Or Europe? But I’m sure you went there a hundred times when you were growing up. I’m just going to say that between Hong Kong and Russia the entire continent of Asia is off limits and I am perfect okay with that.” she let out a groan that almost sounded like a whine, “Australia?” she suggested and then immediately wrinkled her nose, “Nope, never mind, don’t need thousands of people sounding like Slade Wilson following us around the entire time.”

Oliver just laughed and plucked the tablet from her hands, using her surprise to capture her mouth with his and flip her to her back before she even knew what had happened.

“You think way too much.”

“You’re marrying me.”

“I take it back, maybe you are dumb. Do you know what you’re getting into?” but his tone was light and he delighted in the way her eyes danced as she swatted his arm before letting her hand trail down his chest.

“I know exactly what I’m getting,” her palm ran along his jaw, nails scraping through the longer than usual stubble and sending little shocks of desire running across his skin.

“I don’t care where we go. I don’t care if you book a room a mile outside Starling. My plans include you, and the dress code is clothing optional,” he dropped his face to her neck, loving how she went from ticklish squeals to breathy groans once he began to nip along her collarbone. “We can even lock everyone out of the foundry and hole up there for the week. All I need and want is you.”

“Oliver Queen! I am not spending our honeymoon in the foundry! We already spend almost every waking moment there as it is, and besides I’ve already got the others lined up to cover for us so we can be gone and know that the city is safe. I even set up a duty roster! Do not make me waste a spreadsheet!”

He smiled so wide his cheeks burned at her genuine indignation at having her hard work potentially be for nothing.

“I would never come between you and your spreadsheets.”

“That’s good, that’s very good,” the fire leaving her voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close “Now...how about you tell me exactly what sort of plans you had in mind for our trip. You know I like to be prepared. Clothing was optional, correct?”

**  
  
**


	14. Out of the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Future fic. Olicity getting married. Total fluff! Hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

The buzz from her phone was the last thing Felicity expected to hear as she paced a path between the full length mirror and the low chaise lounge that took up hardly any space in the large dressing room.

Rustling satin and silk sounded like the crinkling of wrapping paper as she hurried to find the small clutch she’d packed for the reception, brows drawing together in confusion because quite literally every person she knew was sitting just outside in the garden where she was due to marry Oliver in twenty minutes time.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw she had a text from him. A broad smile bloomed across her face, her eyes flicking towards the window even though her view of the wedding venue was blocked by trees.

He was out there. Waiting for her.

Anticipation and joy and a whole swarm of butterflies filled her as she fumbled to enter her password, rolling her eyes at her own clumsiness in her haste to see what he’d said.

**_-Why are you taking so long? I want to marry you now._ **

Her smile only grew wider as tears pricked her eyes.

_**-Aren’t you breaking the rules, you’re not supposed to talk to the bride before the wedding.** _

She could almost see the half lift of his lips as he read her response, and her heart leapt when she saw the small dots letting her know he was already typing a reply.

_**-I’ve never been one to follow rules** _

A low swoop went through her belly as she remembered some rules they’d broken just a few days earlier, namely the no sex in the lair rule.

_**-Your sister made the arrangements. Take it up with her.** _

__

Felicity made a mental note to ask Digg later if he snorted when he read that one.

_**-Come marry me. We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think** _

Now her heart was in her throat as the love she felt for him swelled in her chest.

In an instant she was typing back, fingers somehow calm even though she could hardly contain her excitement.

_**-On my way. I love you** _

She waited a second to see if he began to type back but when he didn’t she flew as fast as she could in her mermaid style gown, the tight skirt and train making speed an issue. The phone went back in the clutch, her excitement almost making her forget to grab the small bouquet waiting next to it. A quick glance in the mirror and she was ready.

When she whipped open the door she expected to find Digg or at least Thea, but the hallway was empty and she’d only just stepped out when the sound of pounding footsteps made her freeze.

Oliver came around the corner and drew to a halt, tuxedo jacket settling against his chest, but not before she caught a glimpse of his suspenders.

“What are you doing here? John was going to--”

Her words were cut off with his lips, warm hands framing her face as kissed her like it was the first and last time wrapped together.

“I just wanted to do that one more time before you were my wife.”

The smile he gave her was nothing but teeth and dimples, his eyes practically sparkling with happiness. He stepped back, looking her up and down slowly, taking her in.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble,” she admonished, one hand slipping between the silk lining of his jacket and the crisp material of his white shirt.

“When have we ever done anything the conventional way?” he asked with an almost smug shrug.

“Not very often,” she admitted with a smile that matched his as she pressed up on her toes to capture his lips again.

“Next time I do that you’ll be my husband.”

She sees it all, the pain, the history, the turmoil. Everything they’d had to go through to reach the moment they were at. And she’d do it all over again as long as she could always end up in that hallway stealing kisses from her soon to be husband.

“Why don’t we go make that happen then,” he suggests softly, buttoning his jacket before offering her his arm.

“But...John and…”

Oliver just lifted one eyebrow and gave her that look that always made her recall all the sinfully delightful things he’d done to her, “This is our day, right? I say we do this like we’ve done everything else. Together.”

Without a word she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, letting her eyes answer for her.

He led her to the stairs, pausing as she reached down to gather up her skirts.

Just as she went to take the first step he let out a small laugh, still staring down at her feet.

“What?”

“Nice shoes,” he said, with a nod and she felt her cheeks tinge pink, she hadn’t been sure he’d notice or understand.

The bright red heels stood out starkly against the ruffled hem of her gown and she looked through her lashes to give him a private smile.

They made it to the bottom without incident although she fully expected to be descended upon by her mother at any second.

Oliver looked left and right before taking her by the hand to lead her through the back of the building, using his skills to keep them from running into anyone. But just before he went to push through the door to the outside she stopped him.

“Hang on,” stooping low she gathered up the train to drape over her arm before she slid off the heels, “Okay, I’m good. Now. Can we please get married!”

He threw back his head and laughed, and she swore it was a sight and sound she’d never get tired of hearing. His lips brushed over the back of her knuckles before he tugged her to his side and they slipped into the gardens.

She was lost after ten feet but she trusted Oliver and after a slightly precarious walk over a large koi pond where he finally just scooped her up and carried her, they emerged from a low field with drooping Weeping Willows and she realized with a gasp they were at their wedding, but coming at it from the other side.

Their guests mingled around, low murmurs coming from the small crowd as the string quartet warmed up, waiting for the wedding to begin.

“Stay here,” Oliver said quickly, leaving her hidden behind a tree as he darted out, looking so much like he did in his suit she had to shake her head.

Peeking around she saw him approach the officiant who had been consulting her notes off to the side and she realized in an instant what he was doing.

Heart pounding behind her ribs she clutched her bouquet tighter and quickly dropped her train to slip her shoes back on.

Feeling eyes on her she looked up and saw Digg. He stood in front of the first row of chairs but he had obviously spotted Oliver and her if the soft smile on his face was any indication.

Knowing she couldn’t do this without him she waved him towards her, the small shake of his head familiar and comforting because he knew what was about to happen.

Oliver’s eyes were locked on hers as he made his way back, asking if she was okay with this and she nodded happily.

His hands grasped hers when he reached her side, looking up in surprise when he saw Digg right behind them.

“We need a witness, right?” she asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

* * *

Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak were married at five fifty p.m, ten minutes before they were supposed to be.

Oliver and Felicity Queen were also married at six p.m, just as the invitation had said.

**  
  
  
  
**


	15. Twenty Three Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Set in the 3.5 timeline, so not a S3 dabble or a S4 drabble. A short prosey thing previously published on tumblr. Enjoy!

Twenty-three minutes.

That’s the average time it took for Oliver to go back to sleep after waking from a nightmare.

Over the months they were together Felicity inadvertently collected the data, noting the clock when he’d wake her with disconnected mutterings, and the time when his breath would even out again announcing sleep.

She discarded the outliers. Like the nights he’d wake up yelling, body taut and ready for an attack. Those nights he never went back to sleep and she was grateful they didn’t happen often.

Most nights, if he did dream of terrible things, they didn’t wake him at all.

She’d roll so she could see him, his brows drawn together, mouth in a frown. With a featherlight touch she’d just let the backs of her knuckles brush over his temple, across his hair, and stop at his ear before returning to begin again.

Over and over, so slow and soft she could barely feel him herself she’d soothe him until his breath was warm and steady against her arm, until the deep lines in the center of his forehead faded, until the muscles around his mouth relaxed.

She liked that she could do that. That she could comfort him without waking him. His eyes when he’d wake were almost more than she could bare sometimes. Pain filled, lost and hopeless. She never minded being woken up if she had the power to bring him a little peace.

Her strokes would become slower and slower, fingers curling inwards into her palm as her eyes grew heavier. Eventually they would stop, her hand coming to rest gently against his shoulder, her head turning to press into his arm, curling into him as they both slept.

Oliver Queen’s protector.

As the years progressed she was happy to discover her services were needed less and less.

But sometimes she still lay there watching him sleep. The hair at his temples now shot with silver. The lines around his eyes no longer something she could ease away, but present for a very different reason.

And she’d still stroke his hair like she always had. Because she wanted to, and it brought them both peace. And she knew they’d earned it.  

 


End file.
